


Breaking Point

by Bremmatron33



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a medic isn't all it's cracked up to be. Was it ever really cracked up to be anything good?<br/>A fic I did to accompany an art piece I commissioned from the lovely larrydraws on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This got long. As all my stories tend to do.  
> http://larrydraws.tumblr.com/post/141132001084/a-very-interesting-commission-of-tfas-red-alert  
> Here's the link to the picture.

This war was never going to end and he was never going to last.

As he ran through the burning broken city the roads cracked and oozed brilliant pink and dull clotted rose. The liquid rose like a flood and seeped into his peds; sticky and unpleasant. A shiver ran up his spinal strut as his steps squelched and his gears pulled and stuck. His spark pounded with terror as the world slowed. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was trying his best and he wasn’t moving an inch. So he stopped. Why did he stop? He always ran. It was the only thing that kept him safe! He wasn’t safe anymore. The world seemed to sharpen and contort around him as it pressed in. The air pulsed as the flood leveled to his thighs. The smell of rot and rust overwhelmed him and made him retch. He’s frame swayed as the day around him strobed brighter and brighter. He could feel the energon lap at his waist. It was cold. Something brushed by his ped. He vented shakily determined not to look down. It didn’t stop anything.

Knock Out shook himself awake from another nightmare and tried to stifle his scream, it didn’t do well for a neutral like him to make a scene. The Autobots were kind with their own but had a discernible aloofness for anyone else. Knock Out didn’t care but he hated being judged behind his back. He wasn’t apart of them and he didn’t want to be. He was just a free pair of servos who needed the energon.

The nightmare was at least well timed. A lead medic was already coming to wake up the next shift. Knock Out couldn’t remember the name. He smiled at Knock Out for his promptness but said nothing else as he proceeded to holler at the other still recharging mechs. Knock Out carefully stood and sauntered off as best he could so he didn’t have to listen to the rest of the racket. The only quiet he was allotted was the time it took him to descend a few sets of stairs and walk down the hall. As he neared the makeshift medbay the screams and chatter of medics and patients alike drowned his audials. Knock Out took a sharp right and rapt on the first door. It opened on its own revealing a decontamination room.

A call ushered him in so in he went. He activated his surgical mask, ducked his head, and climbed into the strange pod device. The door snapped shut and before Knock Out knew it a disgusting rain of chemicals poured down over him. It clung to his metal in a thick slime and it burned annoyingly; still he ran his servos through it a few times before quickly shaking them clean. A rush of cold solvent followed and then a blast of blistering air and with that done the door shot up and he was instructed to leave. Good riddance. Knock Out hated Autobot protocols. He whined internally at his now faded and spotty paint as he headed off to get his orders.

Pushing past the curtain Knock Out was nearly knocked back by an errant servo dangling from a cot as two medics carted out another lost spark. Knock Out shook off the close encounter with a huff and headed over to get his orders from the CMO. Even as an older medic Ratchet still thought he could do it all, shouting orders to different medics even as he was elbow deep in some carrier bot. What was the point of the fancy title if he still had to slave away for the cause cycle after cycle. It didn’t make him any different from any other medic.

As Knock Out approached Ratchet actually bothered to turn and face him. “You. Neutral. I want you in the replicator room we need about a dozen servos. You’ll be on night shift.”

“Night shift! But I’m a runner tomorrow!”

“I need you where I need you. Go now!”

Knock Out curled his servos in rage but pulled a tight smile and stalked off as quickly as possible. This was the fourteenth time this mega cycle that old junker had done this to him! The FOURTEENTH! No other medic in the damn facility besides him had ever had to do night shift then runners duty! What was the CMO’s problem!. Wrenching open the door to the small crafting room Knock Out dug around in the mess of the room for that cycle’s docket. Just one more thing he hated about this place. They may have been in a war but was there really no room for organization!

A sharp pain shot through his servo causing him to shriek and curl inwards. What in the Pit was that! Knock Out gritted his denta and hissed as he glared down at his snapped digitip. Knock Out growled in annoyance as he carefully swiped at the mess of holo papers to find the culprit. An abandoned engine block, lovely. Not to mention a pile of other abandoned metal left for refining, even better. So much for safety protocols. Luckily his vindictive searching managed to uncover the docket. Knock Out read it over before placing it next to the replicator. About a dozen his aft. When had a dozen become closer to thirty?

His broken digit was going to bother him all cycle if he didn’t do something. Servos could wait. It didn’t take long for Knock Out to claw open an arm compartment and pull out his talon snips. Not the optimal solution but at least he wouldn’t do any more damage. He would just look stupid with one really short talon. Good thing he was stuck in a room where no one could see him. With nothing else left to waste time on Knock Out set to work putting in command codes and specs for parts. The thrum of the replicator just barely drowning out the ruckus from down the hall. Small blessings as they say.

How many servos can one mech continuously build till reality just ceases to matter. The answer for Knock Out was fifteen and a half. Space turned dull and slow and he continued to tighten and loosen the same screw. What was the point? All of his hard work was only going to be blown off again. The Autobots were so sloppy, so wasteful. They knew their medics cared so they had no fear of damage. Nothing but a waste. Eventually Knock Out put the screwdriver down entirely. His optics dimming despite him knowing better.The monotony exhausted him more than it should have. Then again everything exhausted him more than it should have that was just the theme of war for a medic. Exhaustion; and like so many other things it never ended. Was there a cycle he didn’t sit and ponder if it would just be easier to go dark and let whatever may happen, happen? If there was Knock Out couldn’t remember it. Too many blows to the head had taken away whatever happy memories he once had. A blessing when he thought about if further. What good would they have done him anyway?

* * *

 

“Sleeping beauty. It’s me. Your Prince. Wake up~” A slim servo on his thigh and a careful digit stroking his helm startled Knock Out awake. “Good morning! You’re lucky I like you or you’d be hearing a word from Ratchet Neutral.”

Pharma. Primus be. “Go ahead. There’s nothing more he could do to me.”

“Oh don’t be that way. Like I said you’re one of the only medics I actually enjoy working with. It’s nice to have someone my own age to talk to. It’s nice to have someone who talks at all. I would never throw you under the tank treads no matter how much I tease.”

“Believe it or not it’s a nervous habit.” Knock Out liked Pharma enough and as the second youngest medic; the youngest being himself; Pharma was actually relatable. Unlike most of the other medics he actually had a personality. Still as Ratchet’s obvious favorite he was also insufferable at times. He got whatever he wanted and the old mech doted on him constantly. Knock Out had lost many of his own breaks because Pharma needed them more. Pharma was a great medic but was emotionally weak. He craved attention and verbal reassurance like Knock Out craved recharge inducers.. Whenever he didn’t get it he had the nasty habit of getting bored or angry with his work. Faking issues to get Ratchet’s attention. Watching the older medic fish for compliments made Knock Out want to purge but even still he couldn’t fault the mech. He would kill for a “Nice work!” or “Take a break.” of his own.

“Then you must be a wreck because you never stop chattering.”

“Who am I to deny the truth.”

“You don’t mean that now! I’ve never seen a pair of steadier servos. Not to mention saws. The other medics’ sparks seize when they watch you work but I find it fascinating.”

“Thanks.” Pharma shuffled slightly unsure, clearly wanting his own compliment. If the flashy aerial was on night shift with him as he suspected it would do him well to give Pharma what he wanted. “You’re quite the show yourself. Is there a reason for the pleasant awakening? Change in schedules perhaps?” Knock Out could only hope, even with his impromptu nap his processor was still tight and sluggish.

“Oh no. I was on break and I remember Ratchet sequestering you away in here. I figured you could use a fuel break. Looks like I was right sleepyhead~ Come on let’s go together.” Knock Out covered his optics with his servos and tried to reset them as he checked his systems. He forgot that his fuel gauge was broken so no matter what it read thirty percent. He certainly didn’t feel at thirty percent but then again he had stopped feeling low level pain quite some time ago. It certainly couldn’t hurt to fuel up and Knock Out was tired of the room. He grabbed Pharma’s servo and let the other mech drag him to his peds.

As they headed to the store room Knock Out made conversation. “Are you on night shift again?”

“Ugh yes. I’ve been trying to get out of it. The gestalts have been going at it all cycle so we’re going to be swamped as soon as night falls. Wounds that last that long are nurse work. Would you like me to stay on with you?”

“You don’t have to. Like you said we’ll be too busy to really chat.”

“Last time you were on night shift you went dark on the floor. Landed face first into a Wrecker’s gut wound. Are you sure you don’t want me?”

“Please don’t remind me. He just came down with rust and I’ve been secretly panicking ever since. You can make your own berth. I don’t need you complaining that it’s all my fault when your servos are locked up tomorrow.”

“LOCKED UP! Just who do you think you’re talking to new build?”

“Everyone locks up once in awhile under our conditions Pharma.” Pharma pursed his lips for a moment still angry from the other medic's insult but Knock Out wasn’t wrong.

“Alright.” Pharma’s tone softened. “Speaking of how’s your back wheel. You took a heavy blow from that Berserker Neutral you tried to save.”

“Not my brightest moment but he was an old acquaintance. Those Decepticon sleeper codes are stronger than expected. Pretty sure my wheel’s still warped. I was pulling to the right when I went out on yesterday’s supply run.”

“Yeah but at least you cracked it. Saved him from self destructing and blowing this place sky high. None of the other old jalopies here could have managed to deal with that kind of programming. Not to mention you talked down that other freak who tried to off Splitseam a week or so ago. Perhaps you should change fields. You could sit pretty with Rung and his buddies.”

“And continually risk getting my chassis bashed in by crossed wires? No thanks. At least energon washes off.” Pharma laughed off Knock Out’s glare and spun the car’s good back wheel playfully.

“Fair enough. You want me to straighten you out. You’ve got runner duty in the morning after all.” Knock Out was a terrible patient. One of those mechs that hated his internals being played with by any servos that weren’t his own. With how much damage the lightweight took on a weekly basis that wasn’t a good habit to have. Knock Out was pretty on the outside but Pharma wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the only thing holding the younger medic’s insides together was glue, suture wire, and a prayer so he always tried to offer  to help even if it was going to be an exhausting experience.

Knock Out gave Pharma a long look. “Do you even know how to straighten wheels like mine?”

Pharma would usually counter such a claim on his intelligence but he knew Knock Out was purposefully trying to get a rise out of him. “Among other things. I'm rather familiar with all automobile forms. Pardon my crass innuendo.”

“Your wordplay needs work. That was the weakest innuendo I’ve ever heard.”

“Well I’m sure it’s much better wherever you’re from! Which is where might I ask?”

“Where does it sound like I’m from?”

“Well I couldn’t fancy a guess because everyone knows your plates don’t match.” Knock Out stayed silent. It was nobody’s business where he came from. Pharma quickly gave up. He really didn’t want to anger Knock Out. “Whatever stay aloof and mysterious. Do you want my help or not?” Knock Out still balked at the idea but agreed in the end. It would be an even worse day tomorrow if he refused. “That’s a good boy. First a treat to calm you down though I think?” Pharma pushed open the door to the fuel dispensary and held it for Knock Out who rolled his optics as he passed the other medic.

At the desk a young femme minibot looked up at them from her clipboard. She smiled and asked for their names before handing over their afternoon rations. As they turned to leave she called out to Knock Out.

“Ahem Knock Out?” He turned to look back at her. She flinched slightly; not a cycle went by without it being somebody. “You’ve been skipping rations for the past two weeks now. Usually I’m supposed to alert the head of your team but since you seem in fair health I thought I could just give you a warning. Please remember to pick up all of your rations.”

Knock Out gritted his denta and smiled. He hadn’t even realized. He really needed to get his stupid fuel gauge fixed. Knock Out let out a short nervous laugh and went to lean over the table. He needed to think of a quick excuse. “Yeah about that...being young and fuel efficient I was hoping to rack up some of my rations for a more festive purpose. I mean whether I use them that cycle or not they're still mine right? I’d be more than happy to give you a cut in return for your help and discretion.” Knock Out booped the minibot on her helm flirtatiously causing her to blush a deep pink. She laughed embarrassed but smiled back up at Knock Out regardless.

“Oh! Thank you but that won’t be necessary. I don’t mind as long as you make sure to have fun responsibly. I’ll be happy to give you your backlog as long as you promise to pick up all your rations from now on. What you do with them is your own business but I have paperwork and all that you see.” The minibot turned round to gather up the young medic's rations.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.”

“No trouble really.” Leaning over the desk she handed Knock Out a bag of his ignored rations and waved the two off. As they left to go find a private spot he opened the bag to count just how many he had missed. Too many. He really dodged a bullet there.

“It must be nice to be so young and fuel efficient.” Knock Out paid no mind to Pharma’s mocking. He was too far in his own thoughts. How had he missed so many damn rations. Energon was the sole reason he was even working with the Autobots and here he was forgetting about the stuff. He swore he had picked up rations every chance he got. Pit he remembered even going over his quota a few times in the past. What was he doing to himself? Another light spin of his wheel pulled him back. “So do you really have any plans on upgrading those rations because I could use a good time?”

“Well Pharma that’s the thing about lies. The best ones can always be turned into the truth.” Pharma smiled excited anticipation twinkling in his optics.

“I will hold you to that. It’ll be a lot more fun than building another dozen or so servos.” Knock Out laughed under his breath. Pharma was so spoiled he wanted everything the moment he thought of it. Still he was right anything would have been better than going back to the parts room even if he did end up getting reprimanded.

“Fine by me let’s go to the chem lab. I know I can bribe Phenol.”

“Wheel first mister. Sit.” Knock Out found a relatively clean spot and sat down and bit into the energon cube in his servo.  Pharma sat down behind him and put one servo on the Knock Out's bad wheel and the other on the space in between. “This won’t hurt a bit. I promise.” Damn right it wouldn’t Knock Out turned off his pain sensors eons ago.

* * *

 

Night shift was the worst. As soon as the cover of night fell most of the fighting died down and both factions used the darkness as a chance to sneak back to their bases to reload and rest up. More importantly they used the cover to drag their dying friends across the battlefields to the closest med bays. As Pharma once said night shift wasn’t for bots that mattered. It was for the soldiers only other soldiers cared about.Tonight would be no different. After his second trip to decontamination that day Knock Out pushed past the curtain to the med floor and waited for the mob.

The body count didn't stop and by the first hour in Knock Out was already soaked in energon. Digging through wires and torn metal to reach spark casings and blindly groping in half full tanks to fish out major energon lines. One idiot even brought in a scraplet case. The eight medics in the room looked at each other apprehensively. Ratchet’s not there to decide. The poor slagger's friend was screaming and sobbing just as much as the infected slagger and no one wants to deal with the scene. Eventually Knock Out broke, he hates when they cry. The friend grabs at him and tries to thank him but he quickly lurches away and hollers at someone to get the warm body off of the floor. His nurse looks at him in horror as Knock Out instructs him to move the body over, hold the patient down, and ground himself. It barely registers before Knock Out cycles open both apertures of his defibrillators and gives the mech as high a voltage the young medic can go. It kills the scraplets in an instant but only the nurse seemed to notice Knock Out's optics blink on and off a few times before staying lit. Knock Out didn't know or really care at this point the damage it might have done to the patient as long as it got the job done. As he brings his saw down and starts to scoop out servofull after servofull of the parasites; crunching them before littering the floor with carcasses. He can feel everyone’s optics on him; judging him for his ruthlessness; and he hates it. Primus even his nurse is still standing there like a stripped screw. They have their own cases and they didn’t want to deal with the problem anyway. They have no right! It doesn’t take long for Pharma to help him sliding a refuse bin under his table and taking away Knock Out's statue of an assistant in exchange for another one.

He loses his next three. As waste of med grade, nanites, and foil.

As Knock Out wired up a new servo to some bruiser he could hear screaming down the hall. Not the normal kind of screaming either. Assistants and guards are shouting and so is whomever they are shouting at. Eventually the ruckus gets to the floor. Some hulking tank build pushes past the curtain and starts his sob story. Everyone thinks their friend is more important than the other hundred or so mechs they’ve got lined up. Except this time nobody’s even bothering to tell the brute off. Knock Out looks up from his work to give the mech an audialful when he spots the smaller mech he’s got in his servos; or what’s left of them. Either Knock Out’s the only one who bothered to look up or all these fragging Bots were sorry scrapheaps. Twisting the last few connecting wires Knock Out gritted his denta and opened a compartment in his arm. Syringe in servo he made his way over to the erratic mech.

“How can I be of help?” The bigger mech was barely understandable as he sobbed through his words. Knock Out could only stare at the blank gaze of the dead mech. Encounters like this were the worst. Half the poor slagger’s head was missing never mind his the rest of him that had been sheared off by who knows what. What kind of poor mech could convince himself that there was still a chance for this sort of mess.

“Please. He’s my... Please do anything!” Knock Out sighed internally. Yeah that would do it. Why were some mechs so stupid? Knock Out reached over and pulled the dead gunner away from his lover. His tanks seizing and welling as he secured the smaller mech in his arms. Knock Out could hear the smaller mechs ragged venting and feel the faint pulse of a spark. The poor mech was still alive.

“I’ll do what I can.” The two guards at the door gaped at him with wide optics and hanging jaws. Knock Out told them to do there effing jobs as he took the patient back to his table. He laid the leaking mess of wires and metal down and stared at it as he replaced the unused tranquilizer back into its case. He didn’t even know where to start. There wasn’t really anything left to start with. Why did he do this sort of slag to himself.

Someone must have realized he was in over his head and taken pity on him because after almost of two hours of doing his best Knock Out felt a servo on his shoulder.

“I think it’s time you took a break.” Ratchet pulled Knock Out from the work table and looked the younger mech over.

“I’m fine.” Ratchet nodded sympathetically.

“That’s good. I still want you to go get some air. I’ll take this one.” Knock Out didn’t even bother putting up a fight. He set his dirty tools down on a cart and left the floor to find the least noticeable refuse bin to vomit into. Making the most of his brief respite Knock Out pressed his face into the cool metal of the wall. It soothed his burning overworked chassis but did little for his raw nerves. It would be hours before day and even that didn’t matter. Another round of decontamination and he was back to work.

As he handed off another stabilized mech Knock Out looked at his energon stained chassis. What was decontamination even for? He was already dripping with the energon of thirty or so other mechs so who was he keeping sterile? Not to mention He was going to have no time to fix his paint before field duty at the rate this night was going.

The grunting and frantic pleas of runners pulled him from his bemoaning. What now? Knock Out called out to the struggling runners at they carried the mech over. “What’s his problem!”

“He’s still armed!”

“Oh you have got to be kidding me! Just take it from him!”

“It’s not as easy as that!”

“Then you should have dealt with that before you brought him in here!” With syringe already in servo Knock Out pushed aside one of  the runners and slammed the wounded mech into the ground hoping it would stun the panicking fool. The blow didn’t phase the bigger mech and the sight of Knock Out and his vivid red optics only frightened the other mech more. Knock Out wasn’t paying attention so as he jammed his syringe into the closest fuel line he could find he didn’t notice the frantic patient stab him in his intake. “Alright get him on the table.”

It took the jumbled screams of the runners and the warm dripping lines of his own energon before he even took notice of the wound. Without really thinking his servo explored the area. He couldn’t feel the pain but his systems were going red with warnings and his body was starting to shake worse than it had all night. Damn idiot cut a fuel line. Knock Out’s vision was already going black at the edges. He really should have fueled back up before coming back. He really should have just not come back at all. Now he was going to have to deal with this. Knock Out yanked the knife free and his processor immediately swirled. The world around him spun. He really should have known better. “Slag.” The last thing Knock Out heard before going dark was the sound of his own chassis crashing to the floor.

* * *

 

Knock Out didn’t know how long he was out for but he could feel cold servos slapping his face gently trying to rouse him. “Come on hero. Back to the land of the living for you.”

Red Alert. She was going to let him have it but at least it wasn’t Ratchet.  Reaching out blindly he grabbed at Red Alert’s servos as he rebooted his vocalizer. “Hmm tell it to me straight. Am I going to make it.”

She vented sharply in annoyance but Knock Out could hear the smile in her voice. She vented through clenched denta “Hmmm. I’m afraid so.”

He cried out dramatically and dimmed his optics back to life. “But Doctor I love him!”

“Yes well. You’ll see Primus one day. The wait will make your meeting all the sweeter.”

“Yeah right! You know I’m going straight to the Pit.” With his systems back online Knock Out brushed the femme’s steadying servos away and stood up to look around. She had dragged him to a different part of the complex. Some fancy lobby or open meeting area. Cold air blew in from the huge hole in wall that exposed the building to the raging war outside. Knock Out walked over and sat down on the edge to watch the burning fire that was the city. As Red Alert sat down next to the younger medic she caught him pulling a frown as he explored his treated wound.

“My work not to your liking?”

“It’s fine.”

“If you don’t like it then you shouldn’t go and get stabbed.”

“I said it was fine.”

“Yeah but you didn’t mean it.” Red Alert slipped a cube of med grade into Knock Out’s shaking servos. “You really need to stop being so reckless.”

“You mean stop handling things?” Knock Out downed half the cube before handing it back to the femme. He knew he was low but his tanks just couldn’t handle it right now. Red Alert idly sipped at the rest of the liquid.

“It’s not your job to handle things. You don’t have to prove anything to those mechs Knock Out.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I’m proud to be a low born slum dweller. I don’t care what they think of me.”

“Yeah and that’s why you learned to talk with an Iacon accent and you refused to tell anyone where you got your saws from.”

“It’s not about where I came from it’s what. I don’t need them thinking I’m any less of a healer than they are just because I didn’t go to some fancy academy.”

“I thought you weren’t trying to prove anything.”

“I’m not! I still don’t want them thinking it though! It’s a passive thing!”

Red Alert laughed under her breath as she took another drink. “Alright.”

Knock Out continued to stare out into the burning city, at the laid out bodies far beneath his peds, the black smoke filled sky. He was so numb and raw that none of it really registered for him. It all looked so vague and far away but in a few hours he would be down there in the thick of it. "What time is it?"

“Just a little past dawn.”

“I’m sorry. Someone had to wake you up to fix me.”

“Actually I was already up. A little bratty bird told me that you had energex so I was waiting for the shift to end.”

“Ah. Feel free to drink with Pharma while I’m out then.”

“And where do you plan on going?”

“I’ve got field duty today.”

“But you just did night shift.”

“Mmhmm.”

“And wait. You had field duty two cycles ago.”

“Also true.”

“That can’t be right? You told Ratchet right.” Knock Out felt her place a servo on his shoulder. “You did just say that you’re not trying to play the hero.”

“I did indeed. He said he needed me where he needed me.” A heavy silence formed between them. Knock Out spotted a running form somewhere in the distance and followed his path hazily.

“ You know he only does this to you because you always come back.” Knock Out stared out into the distance unsure of how to answer her. “ Still... I’ll go talk to him. You can’t go out like this.”

“Don’t bother. It’s fine.”

“It’s really not.”

“I’ve done it before and I hate recharge so there’s nothing else for me to do.”

“I could sneak you something.”

“I think all the inducers are messing my memory up.”

“Yeah but do you _really_ need that.”

Knock Out hummed in agreement. “Good point.”

“If you’re seriously going to go through with field duty then you should at least try to get two or three hours in.”

“I think I’m going to shower and try to do something to this paint job.”

“I think you should re-evaluate your priorities.”

“If I am going to run about the city I have to look somewhat decent!” The femme sighed at the younger mech’s vanity.

“You’re headed for an early grave hi-shine. You don’t even need the war to help you with that.” Red Alert rubbed at the small of Knock Out’s back congenially. “If you’re going to primp then tell me where you hid the goods.”

“Chem lab. There’s a large bookcase thing. It’s in one of the bottom drawers.”

“Alright.” Red Alert forced the med grade cube back into Knock Out’s servos before she stood and stretched. He downed the rest of it and immediately regretted it. The med grade sat heavy in his tanks and made him queasy. “You really going to be okay? I can take your place.”

“Yeah. I’m tired of sitting in this building anyway.”

“I’ll be on night shift tonight so I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Alright.” Red Alert rubbed his shoulder comfortingly one last time before heading off. With her gone Knock Out sat in the silence and mindlessly stared at bodies littering the ground below. He had always prided himself on being well rounded. Smart, pretty, and tough enough that most mechs didn’t feel like messing with him.The war didn’t care about any of that, it killed all kinds. The only thing that had kept him alive so far had been luck and fear but that could only last so far. How long would it take before he was lying down there with the others? Sooner than he feared at the rate he was going.


	2. Collateral Damage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite everything even Knock Out saw himself as some sort of hero when he was young.

With the shiniest new paint job he could achieve in two hours and all his rations for that cycle Knock Out headed to the supply room to stock up. A lanky aerial looked him over suspiciously.

“Problem?” Knock Out wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t have the energy to be nice.

“No. It’s just I feel like I see you way too often.” Yeah here it goes again. Knock Out truly wished that “Yeah well Ratchet is a rusty port licker!” was an appropriate response.

“I’m friends with Pharma. Enough said really.”

“Primus I’m sorry.”

“Yeah I’m used to it.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Aside from my supplies?”

“Yeah..like for you. I’ve uh...got some stuff. You know good stuff.”

“What do you have?” Knock Out had no idea what this mech was talking about.

“Xemethel Oil. It’s like circuit speeder but better. That’s for you know stamina. I’ve got Coating for pain and you know just a bunch of other stuff if you just don’t want to remember what you’re about to do. So you up for anything? ” Oh drugs! Of course drugs. Where was his processor?

“What’s better about the uh...oil?”

“It lasts longer. Acts faster and stronger. Doesn’t give you the ticks when you come down. No slow down either, that’s the best part. It just feels better too. It’s not zero to eighty like speeder.”

“Ok.”

“Cool. I’ll get it for you. Just stay here and cover for me. I’ve got everything stashed in loose wall panel in the chem lab.” Oh..no. That wasn’t a please give me the drugs ok that was a noncommittal never touched drugs in his life so whatever you say is probably true ok. Knock Out didn’t even have the time to rectify the issue as the taller mech pat him on the shoulder and ran off.

With nothing better to do Knock Out wandered around the small room and looked at whatever he could. A rough spin on his back wheel made him turn on his heel. He knew how tempting his free spinning wheels were since most of the mechs around had mostly stationary alt modes but it really did annoy him when just anyone thought it was ok to touch him.The offender was not just any mech though. Knock Out was met with the weary face of Cc. “Hey Doc Knock!”

“Cc we’re all medics here having you call me Doc Knock is a little redundant.”

“Someone’s in a mood? Aren’t you happy to see me. I know I’m your favorite assistant.”

“You’re on field duty as well?”

“Why else would I be up. You look nice and shiny today; easy night shift?”

“I got stabbed so I got let off early. Used my free time to it’s fullest.”

“You got stabbed and you’re still working the field today? You should ask for a shift change.” Cc never quite understood the strange nature of Knock Out’s carefree attitude. Then again Cc didn't really understand Knock Out in general.

The medic had a wicked temper but it usually died down as quickly as it came on and then nothing. Knock Out wasn’t the type to hold grudges or wallow in the miseries of his day all he cared about was being alive by the end of it. A good attitude to have but not one that insured a long life since he never stopped working as long as he still functioned.He was so convicted to helping anyone he could. Despite what Knock Out said it was clear he was trying to prove his worth as a medic. On the flipside he was also brutal. In his moments of rage he could land some pretty nasty blows and he was the first one to deal with rowdy or uncooperative patients. There was also his field work. Cc had provided assistance for quite a few other medics and none of them fought like Knock Out. None of them really fought at all unless they were in a pinch. Running was hardwired in a medic’s code; it was the medics best interest to stay alive after all and it was clear Knock Out wasn’t programmed like that. He ran, but it wasn’t always away from the enemy. Knock Out didn’t just never stop running he practically never stopped moving when he was on the field. He had no problem shocking a Con who came at him till their optics popped or taking off a servo or leg if he had to. Which was quite an appealing trait considering the neutral’s protective nature. Even with the violence Knock Out still had an obligation to the cause. He would hide any Con he hurt someplace safe but visible, even help a few if he felt he did too much damage. Knock Out was just the type of mech who would beat you senseless then kiss the wound better. It made him unpredictable, unapproachable, and utterly terrifying; but Cc couldn’t have loved him more.

“What trying to get rid of me?” Knock Out leaned in, his optics dimming slightly.

Cc laughed nervously, “What! No! I’m just worried about you. You’re really intense and sometimes...just everyone needs downtime you know? We’re mechs, not machines...right?”

“Right.” Knock Out didn’t quite care for the popular Autobot phrase because it was simply untrue and in his old line of work one learned that pretty quickly but coming from a mech like Cc Knock Out found he could indulge in the more poetic meaning of the phrase. “I’m fine though. Worry about yourself so I don’t have to always save you.”

“Hey it’s not easy for mechs without wheels! Besides you’ve seen some of those Cons they’re huge and they attack anything they think they can kill!”

“You can’t blame them for picking off an easy target. One less medic means a few hundred other mechs that won’t get saved.”

“How can you say something like that? It’s not our job to be soldiers! We shouldn’t be attacked like one!”

“You don’t think Autobot soldiers attack Con medics?”

“Of course they don’t! They know better!” Knock Out frowned as he stared at the other mech. This was the problem he had with Autobots. They thought themselves so noble and yet they refused to see the truth around them.”

“Don’t be so naive Cc. Con medics look just like every other Con. They take just as many blows as we do.”

“Then maybe they should look like medics! Then maybe we can both stop being attacked.”

Knock Out hummed a soft laugh. “That wasn’t what I meant. Whatever it’s not worth explaining to an Autobot.”

“Wait why?”

“You don’t understand, that’s why! You Autobots think that every member of your precious team follows the same set of morals but they don’t! If one soldier values efficiency over fairness they’re going to have no problem obliterating the easiest most influential element of a war! Differing viewpoints is the whole reason we’re even in this war in the first place! We’re fighting against our own kind over whose concept of peace is better! It’s stupid and it’s never going to end because even if one side did get to power eventually that party is going to find fault in some reasoning creating an entirely new divide and worse case scenario an entirely new war! All we’ve known as a race is subjugation. We can’t handle peace and freedom because we don’t know what that is.”

“Sometimes you really sound like them you know that right?”

“Well sometimes the Cons have a point.”

“You’re a Neutral though and you’re helping us!”

“I see both sides Cc and I don’t like either of them but that doesn’t mean some of my personal views don’t overlap.”

“What views do share with our cause then?”

“It’s clear to me that if the Cons get the upperservo in this war then it won’t end nicely and it might never end at all.”

“You should be more optimistic.”

“You’re right. It’s a civil war after all.” Cc laughed nervously.

“Come on K.O. don’t be so morbid.”

“Alright.” Cc was older than him by a couple thousand years or so but he was still so idealistic.

Cc bit at his lower lip plate and smiled at the slightly vacant mech. He had never had this long of a conversation with the young surgeon before. This really wasn’t going how Cc hoped his first deep conversation with Knock Out would go though. He had wanted to ask Knock Out about his interests, hobbies, dreams; not politics. “You must have a dream for when the war ends. Something you want to do. Mine’s to be an ambassador! I want to travel to distant worlds and help bring all sorts of beings together.”

“That’s a lot of work Cc. You’ll have a lot to learn.”

“Yeah I have plenty of data pads and stuff and I study in my free time but I feel like it’s one of those jobs you can only really learn by doing and I can’t really do anything stuck here.”

“Don’t be silly you can learn plenty of pertinent skills in this situation.”

“I suppose. So what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Your dream? I’m sure you want to be a great Doctor at some fancy clinic right?”

“My dream? Hmm... after all this work I think I just want to be some mech’s trophy Conjunx. Get bonded to some hot loaded mech. Maybe like a lawyer,bounty hunter, maybe even a future ambassador. That way I can do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it.” Knock Out broke into laughter at the sight of the other mechs deep blush. Which only turned Cc’s face a brighter shade of pink. Knock Out’s laugh was so cute. It wasn’t fair for the younger mech to be doing this to him.

“I’m sure you would make any mech happy but you should want something more for yourself.”

“Hmm.” Knock Out stretched and popped some gears back in line. “I’m not really cut out for professional medicine so I’d have to work for an augmenter maybe even go back to the chop shop.”

A shiver ran up Cc’s spinal strut. “Back to the chop shop?” The origins of Knock Out’s medical knowledge was a popular topic in nightly gossip and the mech’s who knew the truth knew better than to break the young Neutrals trust. So if Knock Out was talking about this then that meant that Knock Out trusted him; really trusted him! Cc’s spark was pulsing fervidly. “What’s a chop shop?” Knock Out’s arms dropped to his sides as he leaned against a wall.

“What? How can you not know?”

“I mean...I’ve heard about chop shops in like historical films and horror flicks but those places...those mechs aren’t around any more. They can’t be!”

“Oh Cc…” Knock Out went silent. He should have known better than to tell the starry-opticed mech that. Mechs like Cc had barely set a ped outside the academy before the war took hold.

“You really worked in a place like that? You were a grave-robber?” No way Knock Out was a little rough around the edges but he wasn’t seedy or insane enough for have worked for the black market!

“Didn’t have to rob any graves with the state of our government. Don’t tell anyone ok. Just keep that between us.”

“Of course eh-bu-but why would you want to go back to that?”

“Most chop shops were pretty brutal but the one I worked for...shop owner had a good spark. We helped a ton of recall victims. Other frame changers too. We were the cheapest in the business and I still came out richer than most slaggers I knew. I was a slum rat with more credits than he knew what to do with so I got vocal coach in the hope that I could move my way up and work as a cold-construct designer.”

“Then why are you here? I’m sure you would make a great designer. There’s still a job in that.”

“Don’t really know to be honest it just sort of happened.The war started getting serious. Rebel stuff at first and I was already underground and I was a mech who knew his way around nearly every Cybertronian form so when someone needed repairs they came to me. I helped whoever didn’t have anyone to help them. The low level Cons are flat out broke and other Neutrals ...they’re not really the best equipped so I had mechs fighting for my attention; whining and begging and I would be working all hours of the day and I was starving because I used all my supplies on them and they had little to nothing to repay me. Eventually I couldn’t live like that anymore so I wandered into an Autobot set up and offered to help in return for energon. They didn’t ask any questions. So here I am.”

Cc didn’t know what to say. There were a million more questions he wanted to ask and yet his processor was blanking. All he could think about was the young medic dismantling mechs in dingy underground clinics, designing new frames for desperate pleading mechs, wasting away helping mechs in Neutral shanty towns as the rust storms blew around him. It made Cc embarrassed of himself. What had he done except sit in an academy and follow the actions of others? “I don’t really know what to say...but I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter what you did Knock Out because you’re still a good mech. No matter what you were doing you wanted to help others and that’s what defines you.”

“Thanks Cc.” That wasn’t even close to the truth but Knock Out didn’t feel like arguing over a simple opinion. Not like there would have been time as the room assistant returned. He shot a glance at Cc before looking back to Knock Out.

“What can I do for you Cc?”

“Oh hey Red Eye I came for supplies. Did you wake up late again?”

“Uh no I was getting a fresh batch of nanites from Aliphatic.”

“Oh is she on duty now? I swore I just saw her in the recharge bay.”

“Yeah well you know Alphi she’s quick on her peds.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Let me get you your stuff.” Red Eye quickly shambled about collecting supplies and packed them into a medic bag to hand off to Cc. The young nurse took it but didn’t leave. Red Eye forced a grin and turned to Knock Out for help.

Knock Out tried to blink off the other mechs demanding glare a few times before he finally understood. “Cc Red Eye needs to tell me about this new drug the chemists cooked up and it’s going to be boring. I’ll paraphrase for you if need be later so why don’t you go grab your rations and gather your teammate.”

“Alright I think it’s Iso!”

“Good! Go get him.” As soon as Cc left Red Eye vented a sigh as he rounded up Knock Out’s supplies as well.

“Thanks for not much.”

“Sorry we were talking he didn’t even ask where you were before.”

“Oh then it’s whatever. So I’m going to inject this stuff into a cube for you and you can take it whenever you want. I would go for just before you feel like melting scrap only because it does take a few klicks to set in.”

“Ok.” Great well that solved that problem. No commitment. Red Eye gave Knock Out his stocked supply bag and a small plastic container.

“Alright you’re all set. Just before you drink it make sure to shake it ok?”

“Got it.

“Good luck out there.” Knock Out waved the assistant off and with a half an hour or so to kill went to go find Pharma and Red Alert. It wasn’t hard considering like himself Pharma almost never shut up and was even more boisterous when intoxicated. The two had beat down a door and were sprawled out on some dingy couchs.

“I don’t even know why we’re fighting for this low born city. Just let the Cons have the damn thing if they want. I mean it was crumbling when we got here and there are zero resources so what good is it?”

“For once I agree with you Pharma. While the state of the city means little it can’t be denied that the city offers us no assets and the civilian presence clearly leans towards the Decepticons. They despise us here and to be honest they’ve been doing more damage than the Cons themselves. We sent an entire troop to help evacuate the major hub of the city and they were nearly all wiped out by civilian rebels.”

“Exactly they’re nuts! Let them live under Lord Megatron’s rule and see how that goes for them!”

Knock Out stood just outside the doorway eavesdropping. He couldn’t blame the two for feeling that way considering that they were the ones patching up the damage but their opinions did sting a little. “You know that’s the thing about low born degenerates, they have a camaraderie and they want to see someone like them succeed. The thing is your side’s not telling these mechs what they need to hear. They’re just telling them what they already know mechs like your higher ups are going to say.”

Pharma’s optics lit up as Knock Out sauntered in. “Oh are you a budding activist now? I hear Optimus is looking for mechs who know their way around the slums. You get mad at me for knocking your home town?”

“Pharma!” Red Alert sat up too; a bit embarrassed to have Knock Out overhear her bad mouthing the city. He himself had said the city was a lost cause but the young medic’s mind was quick to jump to paranoia.

“What~ K.O. knows how to take a joke.”

“That’s right and you’re lucky this isn’t my home town or the salvagers would have already picked you two cuties clean.”

“How brutish! Tell me more.” Pharma stood and drunkenly stumbled over to cling to Knock Out playfully. He loved Knock Out’s cryptic stories.

“Ah well, first they’d drug you senseless and then they’d take you to a dark room and have their way with you. Once they were satisfied they would pick you apart, all of your pretty armor gone so you were left cold and defenseless. Then they’d have some more fun with you. Take a few souvenirs to remember the night. Till they got bored. Then they would sell what was left and you would land on my table. I might let you go depending how much my boss spent. How much your insides were worth. Most likely I’d strap you down, turn off your pain sensors, and take you apart. Panel by panel, screw by screw; till your spark started to stall. I wouldn’t hurt you though and I wouldn’t kill you. I’d make sure you lasted till the end and then I’d done all I could do I would detach your pretty spark and hide it away and then after a long,long,long time when you’ve forgotten who you were I would sell your spark to the highest bidder. Nothing wasted. Not for pretty little frames like you.” Knock Out rubbed Pharma’s helm crest condescendingly as he smiled at the older medic.

Pharma gazed up at Knock Out with a similar smile on his face. “Well I don’t know about Red but I’m wet. Do you always have to make murder sound so sexy?”

“Knock Out!” What did that idiot think he was doing. If the young Neutral didn’t want mechs around knowing about his past then telling Pharma was the worst decision.”

“Red Alert is right to be outraged! Do you honestly think we would believe a story like that? Why is it that every time you lie about your past you make yourself out to be some horror movie villain? To be fair I would love to watch that movie but still. It’s unrealistic and we are not that foolish.”

“I do it so when you eventually find out the truth you won’t be surprised.”

“Oh don’t tell me that. That means it’s boring.”

“Afraid so.” Knock Out nodded and pushed off Pharma to sit down by Red Alert. She passed him a glass of energex but not before punching him lightly on the arm.

“Please tell me you’ve worked your schedule out with Ratchet.” Knock Out drained the glass in one go and muttered a muffled no.

“Afraid not. Just came to say bye and hand off my last will and testament and all that.”

“Ooh what do I get?” Pharma refilled his glass before slumping back down on the unoccupied couch.

“Nothing good. I’m a medic.”

“Oh well. We’ll still make sure you look just as good as you do now before we toss your body into a mass grave.”

“That’s all I want.”

“What is wrong with you two?” Red Alert grabbed at Knock Out and pulled him close. “You are going to be fine, you are going to come back and when you do we are going to talk to Ratchet!”

“I know Ree, I’m just joking.”

“Please don’t joke. If you die then we have to do all of your work! Just thinking about it makes me exhausted.”

“She’s right and not only that if you die there will be no one to preen my wings for me! You’re the only one with the right digits.”

“Oh I feel so loved by you two.”

“Do you want another drink? It’ll take the edge off the Gestalt fire.”

“I better not. I’m running with Cc and Iso and they’re collateral damage just waiting to happen.”

“Cc and Iso? Alright now I’m going to talk to Ratchet personally because even I think he’s trying to kill you.”

“Don’t be rude Pharma! So they’re a little….flighty. They are still very good nurses.”

“Agreed. In a well guarded field hospital. Not out on the battlefield.”

“Can’t really argue there. If you’re still going out then can you at least wear the belt I made for you. Nearly every injury you’ve sustained is from friendly fire.”

“That’s because my disguise works.”

“Too well."

“Fine go get me the stupid brand.”

* * *

 

The screams in his audial couldn’t even hope to drown out the sounds of the artillery fire and the burning of his chassis couldn’t hold a candle to the heat of the city. Knock Out had been out on the front for hours now and it was certainly taking it’s toll.

Even on the ground doing a routine rewire of some poor bruiser’s leg his processor was flooding with errors and warnings. The worst part was that it was noticeable. “Come on kid! Just work through it!” Knock Out felt the bigger mech’s cold soothing servo on his face and couldn’t even be mad that the soldier’s soot stained digits were probably ruining his paint. Knock Out didn’t even remember finishing the job, just the feeling of strong servos carrying him off and thick digits roughly picking at the dirt clogging his vents. “No wonder you’re shutting down. You ain’t getting air. Hope I’m not hurting ya Doc.” Knock Out felt his servos move on their own; digging deep into his grille to clear out the caked on rust.. “You’re the one who’s built for this not me! Please come back online for me!”

Venting deeply Knock Out coughed as the loose dirt went into his engine but after pushing through the cool air eventually stung his internals. Knock Out’s optics faded to life and he was met with a blurry red face and a shimmering golden stare. “Thanks.”

The golden optics darted around before returning back to Knock Out. They cycled wide before focusing again “Someone’s gotta look after you guys. Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine. How’s your leg?”

“Oh it’s working. Thanks Doc. Can I go?”

“Feel free.” The other mech stayed and gazed wantingly at Knock Out but said nothing despite it. Did this brute want something in return for helping him? Knock Out forced a smile and was about to offer the wrecker some energon but he didn’t get the chance. He had gone and flustered the other mech.

“I..ok..bye.” The bruiser turned on his heel and took off as quickly as he could. Knock Out had never met someone who so desperately wanted to leave just as much as he wanted to stay. How odd.

Clinging to the wall Knock Out pulled himself up and re-calibrated some of his systems. It did little but remind him how many things he needed to get fixed once the battle was over. Still at least he felt better. Checking over the commands flooding his comm Knock Out set off.

The work was standard field duty, running from place to place to get treatable mechs back on their peds and to get dying mechs stable before calling in his runners to take them away. It was safer that way. Most runners were usually killed when they were doing patch jobs since most Cons just assumed they were higher ups. So to get rid of that problem Knock Out instructed his runners to never do field work if it took longer than a few clicks and some foil. All the wounded they picked up were taken to a hideaway then picked up by a med carrier. The other medics thought this was wrong since they assumed the soldiers would find the systematic handling cruel. They weren’t the ones saving twenty mechs at a time though. Who cared if the idea was less than ethical Knock Out was the one keeping mechs alive.

Most of the runners knew how Knock Out worked and even prefered his system. It allowed them to look the other way when it came to lost causes, they were only following orders after all. Iso and Cc on the other servo were soft sparks and often dragged in complicated cases despite orders. They thought they were helping but what they were doing was leaving mechs to suffer without treatment for however long it took for the carrier to come around. So every now and again Knock Out had to remind himself to swing by the safe zone. Which was where he was headed.

As he stalked the rows of groaning soldiers they grabbed at his peds. Knock Out offered them his kindest words and the promise that the carrier would be there soon as he tore himself free again and again. Despite the agony Knock Out was sure they were in their wounds were superficial or at least they should be. There was always one though.

Some sports model who should have never seen combat in their life was sobbing as he fingered his gut wound. His guttural gasps indicating he was low on fuel. As Knock Out drew close to him he surged forward and grabbed at Knock Out’s servo. He whispered a few words for the dying mech and forced them back to examine the damage. Cc or more likely Iso had lodged the wound with foil and had wrapped it up in hopes that Knock Out wouldn’t notice. Why couldn’t they understand that this was his work not theirs! Mechs lived if they followed his orders and died if they didn’t. Just because he was younger didn’t mean he wasn’t their superior! They were condemning mechs to death pulling dumb slag like this! Some sealing gel, a new patch of foil, and some energon and the mech was resting peacefully. The wound hadn’t even gone all the way through! What had they been thinking leaving him like this? Knock Outs aggravation flared and died in a second. Things happened in the field. Supplies were lost and tools were broken and not everyone was quick thinking. He couldn’t assume, it was rude.

With all the wounded checked over Knock Out left; passing by the med carrier and his assistants. The large teal mech patted him on the back as they crossed paths. The congenial gesture rattled Knock Out’s plates and sent a shiver up his back strut. “You ok?” Knock Out touched two digits to his helm and signaled the other mech an ‘all good’. “Alright. You need supplies?” Knock Out checked his bag.

“I’m running low on suture wire, do you have any of that?”

“Plenty. Pretty sure you’re the only one who uses it.”

“Yes well I’m also the only one with defibrillators instead of a torch. The two don’t exactly mix you know. Besides welding is slow.”

“You don’t need to make excuses for me. You got your way and it works so you can have all the wire you want.” The larger mech dug around in his subspace and passed over his suture kit. “Just take the lot. I’m sure your injector's getting dull.”

“It is. Thanks.” With curt goodbye Knock Out left at a run.

The carrier called out to him anyway. “Make it back safe Hi-shine.”

Knock Out felt his face heat up. He didn’t like to linger with the carrier. Not only did it waste the wounded precious time but considering he was exactly Knock Out’s type and that the mech had propagated his interest many times it was simply best to keep a certain distance. Such a distance that he hadn’t even exchanged designations with the other mech. The carrier had tried of course but Knock Out made sure to always find a quick exit. The distance didn’t stop his wanting though and despite never spending more than a few minutes with the mech Knock Out had a few fond intimate memories with the carrier. One cycle he would gather the courage to ask the bigger mech for a nice night but the big ones were always the hopeless romantics and Knock Out didn’t have the spark to be worried about another mech constantly.

* * *

 

The light waxed and waned over the city and the blackness at the edges of Knock Out’s optics krept in just as the fire bloomed from the burning buildings around him. After sending another mech back into the fray Knock Out crept behind a building to relax. His tanks had to be at least still half full so the only thing left to blame was exhaustion for him feeling so miserable and there was almost nothing he could do about that. There was no going back yet, despite the dark shadow over the city night wouldn’t fall for another five or six hours. Pulling the small container from his subspace Knock Out flipped open the lid and stared at the cube inside. The slick dark green oil floated in fat globs mottling the brilliant blue liquid. He didn’t have to drink it all. Red Eye had said it was more efficient. Just a sip. Knock Out closed the lid and shook the container. Pulling the homogenized cube out he continued to stare at it before finally taking a drink. The liquid went down ice cold, metallic, and sour and before Knock Out knew it the cube was empty. The blackness ebbed instantly and everything felt light and cool. Knock Out vented deep and easy as he stretched feeling instantly rejuvenated. Why hadn’t he done this before?

* * *

 

Everything sucked. The world around him was melting and his spark was about to go supernova it was pulsing so hard. The screams around him had turned to frightening howls and the metal beneath his peds sucked him downward with each pounding step. His HUD was flooded with warnings and messages and requests and Knock Out couldn’t focus on any of it. Somehow he was still managing though, somehow he had still forced himself to work despite the swirling world around him.

At some point Cc’s sobbing call made it through the white noise and wailing. Knock Out vented hard and whispered into his comm his paranoia getting the better of him. Cc wasn’t coherent however. He continued to beg and cry out for Knock Out no matter what the he said in reply. Something was wrong. Something had gone wrong. Pulling his servos free from some dying mechs spark chamber Knock Out ran without looking back, Cc’s signal on his map the only thing leading the way.

It didn’t take long to get close but Cc was nowhere in sight and this part of the city was cluttered with mechs and live with laserfire. Seeing a break in the line of buildings Knock Out ran for it. Vaulting himself off some unsuspecting Decepticon he scaled what was left of some barrier and jumped down into a dark alley. Stuck in the shadows his senses lit up and his frame leaked static. Peering into a hole in some burnt out building Knock Out spotted a flash of bright green and blue. Cc. Tripping over rubble as he went Knock Out went over to comfort the shaking mech. “Cc what’s wrong?” The words came out a jumbled mess but they still caught the other mech's attention. Optics wet with tears and chassis coated in energon Cc wasted no time and thrust Iso’s body into Knock Out’s arms.

“Please Knock Out, please he needs your help!” Knock Out blindly looked down at the wounded mech. Iso was warm and his optics and spark still pulsed weakly but everything below his chest had been torn away the gaping hole still leaked energon. There was nothing he could do.

“SshhhhhhhCeeehhhsssahhhhhCc. Hhhhheeheese dead.”

“No he’s not! Can’t you feel his spark beat? He just stepped on a mine! It was all my fault.”

“Ceehhhcee I c-c-an’t.” Cc fell forward and grabbed at Knock Out’s ped.

“What do you mean you can’t You’re the only mech who’s ever willing to try! PLEASE KNOCK OUT TRY!” Cc scraped thin lines into Knock Out’s paint as curled in on himself. Knock Out stared at the shaking ball of metal for a moment before breaking.

“Hhhhhooo-ok I’ll try.” Knock Out laid Iso’s chassis flat on the floor and looked it over. There was nothing to be done. The mech only had an hour or so if he was lucky and if he could feel anything he was probably in agony. Knock Out fell back on his peds and dimmed his optics. The air around him becoming cold and tight and his processor pulsed terribly. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do. There was absolutely nothing he could do. No. No there wasn’t. Knock Out let out a breathy laugh as he pulled his spear from the slot in his back. Slowly he leaned over Iso and parted the dying mechs chest plates.

He’s in agony Knock Out remember. You’re doing this for him. You’re doing this so he’ll feel better. This is better. This is so much better.

Knock Out gripped his weapon and raised it high above his head before plunging it into Iso’s spark. Electricity from Knock Out’s spear flared and turned a bright white as it combined with the spark energy. Eventually the light died and a small plume of smoke billowed from Iso’s chest. Knock Out vented shakily and laughed as tears streaked down his face. It had been so easy. So easy and now everything was better. Everything was so much better. “Everything’s fine now.”

Cc looked up; his optics a bright happy blue, full of hope. “Really?” The dissipating wafts of smoke caught his attention. Cc looked down to see Iso’s optics dead and dull. Then he looked to the mechs smoking chest. What had Knock Out done? “Knock Out did you...kill him? Cc’s voice cracked as he spoke the words. There was no way. Knock Out would never do that. He would have found a way. He always found a way!

“He’s better now.” Knock Out smiled and laughed and held out his servos to pull Cc close.

Cc returned to his hysterics. “You killed him.”

“I did what was best.”

“YOU KILLED HIM!” Knock Out grabbed at the other mech and shook him violently.

“WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I HELPED HIM!” Knock Out choked on his words as something pierced through his chassis.

“That’s for popping my optic you arrogant stitcher.” The Con he had jumped on?

“Doc. Are you ok?” Knock Out’s metal slip all but forgotten Cc quickly checked the other medic over. He shuddered when he pulled his servos away, they were sticky with warm energon. “No.”

“It’s fine.” Knock Out whispered as he gently pushed Cc and picked up his spear. He turned in a flash and knocked the Decepticon to the floor. “That’s not the only thing I’m going to pop slagger.” Ramming the spear in under the Con’s chin Knock Out pushed in till the tip wouldn’t go any deeper before he let the electricity flow. The Con’s good optic popped like a lightbulb and energon leaked from his mouth as his chassis shook. Knock Out laughed as the Con screamed and the smell of burnt metal filled the air. Even with the Con good and dead Knock Out still removed his spear only to stab into the mech’s chassis again and again. A light spin on his back wheel pulled him back to reality.

“You’re leaking Knock Out. Let me help you.” A heavy darkness set in around Knock Out. What had he done? What had he let Cc witness? What kind of medic was he?

“That’s alright Cc. I’m fine.” Knock Out smiled again and Cc could see the energon staining his denta.

“Let me help you please.” Knock Out pulled his spear free and held it like a ward.

“Our shifts not over. You need to go check the save spot. I’ll take care of Iso.”

“I promise I won’t tell. You were right. You made him better. You did the right thing. Just let me help you.”

“I’m fine Cc look, the leaking has already stopped. That idiot couldn’t shoot the broadside of a tank let alone any of my necessary internals. Go back to the hospital. I’ll meet you there. I just need a moment to myself.

“Please don’t make me go. I want to say with you.” Cc wrapped his arms around himself and sobbed.

“Ok. Knock Out caved and kicked the dead Con’s body away and leaned against the cool metal wall. He held his arms open and welcomed Cc to join him. Cc ran to Knock Out and buried his face in the crook of Knock Out’s neck. Knock Out held the other mech as he slowly slipped unconscious.

* * *

 

The pungent smell of a cygar and a rough servo smacking at his face stirred Knock Out awake. An old pitted face swam in and out of Knock Out’s sight. It was no mech he recognized. “You with me kid?”

“Who in the Pit are you?”

“Names Cruor. You remember anything?”

“Not really? Why?”

“You remember your name? I certainly don’t recognize ya.” Knock Out gazed into a set of brilliant red optics.

“Not for you.”

“So you really are an Autobot. Cute trick. I really did try to help your friends. Taking down new models is just sinful.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Some idiot tried to mess with your runners. No Con, no Bot, just some freak trying to get their jollies in. War makes mechs crazy. After beating them something fierce he made them call you in the hope that he could get ahold of you. Sell you to the Cons or something. Kid had too many crossed wires. After your friends got your attention he shot them and waited. I had been in here for awhile waiting for my damn rescue and the lunatic hadn’t noticed me so I dragged them off and tried to help them...but there was nothing I could do with no supplies. When you got here and you saw me and them you got that look in your optic that they all get. Then the idiot jumped you and you sawed him in the face and then proceeded to saw the rest of him. Cackling and screaming like a highwire in heat!” Cruor went quiet, his optics dimming. “Watching you young ones crack...there’s something terrifyingly beautiful about it. It’s always over the same sort of thing. It’s always because you care too much. Anyway after that you took a break and just stared at me. Then you picked up your friends placed them in a corner together and took a fraggin nap.”

“That’s the dumbest story I ever heard.” Knock Out rolled his optics as he glared at the mech’s Decepticon insignia. Like he was going to believe anything this geezer told him.

“Yeah well believe me or don’t I don’t really care but you were the one cuddling corpses and crying so hard you went dark.”

Knock Out stood up and stretched his sore components. “Who do you take me for old timer?” As Knock Out turned to face the old medic he noticed the still forms in the corner of the room. Bright green and blue and faded gray and orange. Knock Out sighed and covered his face with his servos. His spark stalled. He had told himself this would happen some day but he had tried to hard to make it so hard to pull off. What was he going to do ?

“It wasn’t your fault kid. They were gone before you even got here.” Knock Out wiped at his face as he turned from the sight. Walking around the room aimlessly; his panic slowly building; Knock Out bent down and picked up a disembodied servo.

“Did I do this?”

“Sure as the Well is deep. Didn’t know any of you Autobots had rage like that. I was almost impressed.”

“I’m not an Autobot. I just work with them.”

“Good for you. Then maybe you won’t mind if I ask, would you mind helping an old Con medic back to his station? I promise you’ll get out of there alive.” Knock Out dropped the servo and slowly took in Cruor.

“You don’t have any legs.”

“Very astute, you must have been top of your class.”

“What happened?” Knock Out walked back over to Cc and Iso and knelt down next to  examine their wounds. Two gunshots straight to the spark. Knock Out fingered Iso’s rectangular wound blankly as his spark and field tightened uncomfortably, a heavy sorrow setting in.

“Friendly fire. Some tank rolled over me when I got knocked out.”

Knock Out let out a muffled laugh. “Let me just send a message for these two.” Knock Out sent a message to Rasorwing and marked the location on the map. There was nothing more to be done here. There was nothing he could have done. “I should have kept them by me like every other medic.”

“That would have just killed the three of you eventually. You’ll eventually stop caring about the what ifs and should haves if you’re smart and you seem like a smart kid to me.”

“I thought I was too. Let’s go old timer.” As Knock Out bent down to pick up the old mech Cruor reached up and detached the belt around Knock Out’s waist and tossed it into a corner.

“That thing’ll get you killed.”

“Just grab on and try not to damage the paint.”

“I’ll do my best.” The old medic stubbed out his cygar and climbed up.

With Cruor secure Knock Out took one last long glance at his deceased runners before leaving. He couldn’t just wait and do nothing. He had to keep moving.

Weaving in and out of the city was easy now that night had fallen, even with Cruor clinging to him. Once they were far enough away the old mech commed his team and they sent down a bridge. Crossing over Knock Out was met with his first sight of a Decepticon air ship and it was underwhelming. As he stalked through the monotonous halls his own pedsteps echoed behind him. Rounding a corner he almost ran into a frantic aerial. The taller mech skidded to a halt and stared down at Knock Out, gaping slightly.

“Cruor what happened? Where did you pick up this hot rod?”

“You like him? You better get used to seeing his face since he’s my new protege.” Cruor laughed wildly.

“Yeah uh...no I’m not and someone owes me a stiff drink and twenty shanix thanks to this loose screw.”

Cruor’s laughter turned into a whisper. “Good one kid. You’re a natural.”

“Uggh Cruor! Listen the drink I can do but you’re just going to have to cut your losses on the money.”

“Tell me where I can put this junker then.” The aerial pointed off down the hall so Knock Out pushed past him without another word. In the med bay Knock Out dumped Cruor on the first table he saw. “Alright I got you here, not tell me how to get off this thing!”

“A bridge got you here so a bridge will send you back but what’s the rush? No one’s going to suspect you’re an Autobot.”

Knock Out groaned. He had sent that other aerial off as a diversion and now he was going to have to wait for him to come back. “Listen here you junker I don’t want to chitchat. I helped you now all I wanna do is go back to my own damn med outpost, recharge, and forget about this entire week!”

“What like we don’t got berths here. Do you really want to go back? I can turn you into a real medic if you wanted kid. Think about it.”

“Yes I do. There is literally no upside to working with you Cons!”

“Fine go back to the Bots; you’ll be back. I can see it in your optics. You ain't one of them. I'll still be here when you realize that.”

“I _really_ wouldn’t bet on it old timer.”


End file.
